Evening of Regret
Poet: Doan Thi Diem
In the sky at dusk lingers the sun’s last light
The drum from the guard-post and a distant horn combine their voices…
In the sky at dusk lingers the sun’s last light
The drum from the guard-post and a distant horn combine their voices
Now the old fisherman rests his oar, his boat drifts to the mooring
Wending back to the hidden hamlet, a boy strikes his buffalo’s horn.
Squalls swaying the bamboo groves, weary the wings of birds
The wanderer hastens by the road of willows, still drenched with dew.
One abides at home… another wanders far from the land where he was born
To whom, alas… to whom may I open my heart?
The stroller lingering on the shore of West Lake, near Nghi Tam Village, may catch sight of some boat lost among the lotus, rustling bamboo trees, and, on the dyke, a buffalo led to a distant hamlet by a child sitting on its back.
The ringing of a pagoda bell ripples through the hazy evening dusk where the poet’s sadness seems to linger.
